


vociferatio mortis

by PallasCat



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Caesar's Legion, Evil Main Character, Graphic torture scene, I'll leave warnings for the graphic scenes just in case, Legion freeform, Lots of it, OC, OCs - Freeform, Other, Serial murderer, Slavery mention, basically OC salad with a bunch of canon characters, be warned the very first scene is a torture scene, but gore, dark themes, more tags to come, murders, other people's ocs, polar, pre-NV, there won't be rape mentions, to set out the tone, young Vulpes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PallasCat/pseuds/PallasCat
Summary: 15 Years before the first Battle of the Hoover Dam a dark shadow looms over the Legion, mysterious murders take place in the city of Flagstaff. A praetorian and a frumentarius are sent on their tracks with their team to solve those gruesome murders.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING  
> This entire intro is a graphic depiction of a torture scene. I will warn you when such scenes are present so they can be skipped.  
> Enjoy your reading.

Screams. Pain. Blood. Excruciating. Deafening. Overwhelming. The sounds crashing on the splattered walls and echoing through the empty room turned into a choir for the tortured souls of the poor fools whose blood now painted the altar. The smell was overpowering, red iron, burnt meat, the acute scent of the dejections left by the ones who preceded him and his own, the vicious odour filling his nose, lungs, mouth, clawing inside the flesh already charred by the endless agonising howls escaping his throat. 

 

The chains dug inside his wrists, but not as much as the dagger snaking between his skin and muscle with a slow, expert glide, pulling chunks of peeled tissues off the tied, wrestling man. If the pathetic excuse of a human being was not screeching his lungs out the noise of the limp, bloodied hide slumping on the hard floor would have filled him with nameless dread. 

 

But the screams. The helplessness. The warm embrace of blood and twitching muscle under the cold steel. Delightful. Exquisite. Intoxicating. And they would end too soon. None of the men taken so far had survived the entire ordeal. But all that matter was now. And the broken imploration of the broken man, turned mad by the cruel torture. A sight only a God deserved. And he God he served. A Goddess. Goddess of War. Standing against another God of War. But Mars would not be able to defeat her all powerful wrath. No one could. 


	2. 1.A Strange Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction of two main characters, Aggripa and Gallus. The story is focused on Gallus.

More disappearances. A Decanus this time. Another one. Nearly a dozen men from Flagstaff vanishing into thin air one after one. Tiberius has been rambling about it to Caesar for nearly an hour before their mighty leader brushed it off as desertion and decided to tighten the sanctions for deserters. Yet. Lucius couldn't help but fear that a darker power was behind all this. A foul presence lurking within their fair city. But the Praetorian leader didn't dare to voice up his concerns, fully knowing that Caesar would laugh it off and call it 'crazy tribal superstitions'. But this voice trapped in his core was screaming inside. Lucius paused his pacing inside his empty living room and brushed his greying hair back, stress, his wife said. Maybe he should shorten them but he feared that they would grow back even whiter. Instead he sighed and grabbed the cup his significant other had left for him and chugged the dangerously hot tea yet the burning water trickling down his throat soothed him almost instantly, chasing away the sense of dread and filling him with a marvellous sense of well-being. This woman was an angel and deserved to be treated as such. 

 

He was putting the cup back on the table properly when Agrippa walked in. 

 

"Sir. You called for me." 

 

"Yes. Please sit." 

 

The younger man nodded and obeyed. Walking long supple strides towards the chair designated by his leader. The new addition had been a powerful asset brought to his team. He first found it odd how the man so adamantly rejected the very idea of cutting his long hair despite them falling all the way down his back even braided. But the Praetorian leader had started to find the care he put into it much more pleasing than those haircuts his other men choose. Too close to a raider style to his liking. But Aggripa had all the markings of a perfect protector. Quiet, obedient, righteous, elegant. Rare traits for a tribal but once again, Aggripa's tribe had been a special case in the Legion's records, they kept their best men at bay easily and instead of fighting and forcing 'useless slaughters' on both their camps offered a tribute of their best warriors and regular shipments of goods for Caesar. The only tribe under Legion's rule yet never conquered. A good comparison for Aggripa himself. The man had kept his sense of self while working along his team. And it didn't take long for Lucius to see how impressive the prowess of the said warriors were at close range. The Praetorian leader almost immediately asked to have them assigned to their ranks and Caesar blindly accepted, not really caring about his third in command's excitement. Simply according him to get his 'toys'. Not seeing the bigger picture of this. 

 

"What is it you want me for, sir ?" Finally said Aggripa, pulling Lucius out of his reverie. 

 

"Yes... Well, have you heard about the recent disappearances happening in our town lately ?" 

 

"I was in the same room as you when Centurion Tiberius reported them to us, sir." Retorted the other man flatly. 

 

"Right, right. We need to act upon this, don't we ?" 

 

"My opinion is irrelevant compared to yours, sir." 

 

"Right, right." sighed Lucius. Aggripa was truly a man of little words. "I should set up a hit team then." 

 

"If you believe it's the wisest option, sir." 

 

"But we don't know where our targets are... Or if they truly are deserters." 

 

"That is true, sir." 

 

"So an investigation should be set up, yes ?" 

 

"Probably, sir." 

 

"But the praetorian guard is not suit for this task." 

 

"Indeed, sir." 

 

"So we should probably consider asking for a more suited group like the Frumentarii." 

 

"I think so too, sir." 

 

"Then it's settled. You will recruit a team of Frumentarii to investigate on this case. Discreetly. And you will lead the case." declared Lucius finally settled on his decision. 

 

"Excuse me, sir ?" 

 

"You heard me. You will lead the investigation on those presumed desertions with a group of Frumentarii. And you will report to me and only me. This is a direct order." 

 

Aggripa frowned, visibly disturbed by how the situation had turned out but nodded regardless, heaving himself up from his seat and bowing to his superior. "I will do as you command, sir." 

 

Lucius nodded back. "Ave, Aggripa. May Mars watch over you." 

 

The long haired man hummed but didn't add any comment. Mars wasn't his God. But he was forbidden from calling out his own. He still would not serve another deity. 

 

Lucius watched him go silently until he found himself alone in his empty living room. As he heard the front door close the strong feeling of dread took over him once again. All he could hope for was that he had not sent his best man on a suicide mission. 

 

*** 

 

Gallus yawned so hard he feared for a second his jaw would dislocate. Today was one of his rare rest days. His five latest missions have been a roaring success and to be fair the Frumentarius hated it. Only a fool, short-lived idiot would think drawing attention to themselves would make them a successful spy. A successful spy was to be invisible, forgotten by all, their presence hoovering around like a breeze and as uncatchable. And his consecutives successes, the latest two being absolute accidents, were getting way too many people interested in him, so slacking off and showing pure disdain was in order. 

 

Being forgotten again. 

 

But this promised to be compromised by the sound of heavy boots stepping closer to the Frumentarii's barracks. 

 

Aggripa stepped inside the Frumentarii's barracks, hoping to find some unoccupied man to get him to join his mission. And so far he only saw one. Napping in the middle of the afternoon. Not even napping actually, just chilling on his cot. Staring at the ceiling. Not even reading or anything. Just doing absolutely nothing and being utterly unproductive. Not exactly a behaviour that must be appreciated by his peers but Aggripa had little choice here. 

 

He walked up to the cot and looked down at the man laying down. Rather handsome to the common Legion standards, if not for the ugly, bloated scar under his left eye, short brown hair, a stubble that may look like it was just negligence but was way too properly trimmed to be accidental, inquisitive green eyes scanning the newcomer promptly like every Frumentarius used to do, and a hoovering sensation of unspeakable evil floating around the man. 

"What an unusual sight. What does a grown, busy praetorian is doing slipping out of his spot to sneak into our dormitories at such an ungodly hour ? Trying to pass time in a more distracting way, is it ?" the suggestive purr made the double entender clear and the man shifted uncomfortably. Gallus had never understood how the praetorian guard was always so haughty and proud. All they did was stand around Caesar all day like lap dogs or occasionally get slaughtered to grab some bounty. The elite of Caesar's Legion. Sincerely the old man could have found better use for them than just parading around his throne all day or throwing them away in hit squads. 

 

 

But the man was quick to recover from the teasing snark Gallus threw as guise of a welcome. The man was tall, as they all were, long ebony black hair tied into a neat braid falling down the man's back, a scar scrapping his face as if someone tried to claw his hazel eye out and visibly failed, tanned skin and features many around here would call 'tribal'. Not that Gallus understood why all those men who overwhelmingly came from tribes themselves made such a fuss about. The praetorian stepped in and stood in front of Gallus, slightly too close to the spy's liking, fully knowing he was in the other man's reach but the soldier was not in his'. 

 

"Frumentarius. Lord Lucius has sent me to join you for our next mission." 

 

The offer immediatly made Gallus sneer. "A bounty ? I'm not doing those jobs. I'm not a hitman I am a spy. Is this so hard to understand ? Plus those are my rest days. Tell your Lord to find someone who values money more than their own hide, I'm not sticking mine out for such futile business." huffed the spy rolling on his side to face away from the praetorian. 

 

Aggripa frowned. He had not expected resistance. Much to his own dismay. "The order comes from Caesar's third in command himself. You are not supposed to refuse it." 

 

"As far as I remember, Lucius is the praetorian guard leader, to whom you answer. And as a Frumentarius I answer to the Frumentarii leader. And once again, as mentioned before, those are my rest days . And I refuse to spend them galloping under the sun for some miserable fool idiotic enough to get identified." 

 

"It's not a bounty." simply enounced the praetorian, still standing motionless and uninterested by the spy's wit. "It is about the disappearances in town. You probably heard about them." 

 

Gallus had to admit, the dark-haired man had a contenance few can maintain, especially after insulting a leader cherished by the entire Legion. "Of course I heard of them. Even the rats gossip about it. Especially the rats. Is this why you came here ?" 

 

The spy's attitude had straighten in a blink, from the teasing facade he slipped into his most professional stance. The kind of shifting that any reasonable creature would run from without giving even a second thought. 

 

But Aggripa had orders and was bound to obey them. Maybe he shouldn't have. 

 

"If you are available you are to work with me on this matter." 

 

"Those are my rest days. And I don't work with the praetoria, " retorted Gallus with a sneer. What next ? Clean the stables ? "On top of that, you don't even know my name or if I am competent." noted the spy. 

 

"But you are available. You will have to do." 

 

Curses. 

 

There goes his desire to be forgotten. Failing or turning down this kind of mission would get you nailed to a cross and that's not how Gallus planned the next days. 

 

He sighed as he sat up and grabbed his shoes. "Fine. Who else is on the team ?" 

 

"No one so far." 

 

Gallus eyes rose up from his half tied shoes "I must have misheard. I would have sworn you said it was just you and me but that can't be possible." 

 

"I'm afraid it is. I haven't found anyone else so far." 

 

"No Centurion ?" 

 

"No." 

 

"A Decanus ?" 

 

"No." 

 

"A recruit ? Even just one ?" 

 

"No." 

 

The Frumentarius slowly dragged his hand across his face. He should plan his desertion plan right away, this whole mess sounded more and more like the biggest mistake of his existence. 

 

"Let me guess, you rose directly to the rank of praetorian before you became a Decanus ?" hissed Gallus through his teeth. 

 

"Yes. How did you guess ?" 

 

"Because anyone rising through the ranks the conventional way would have been put in charge of a team and knows that a team is never just two people." 

 

The praetorian frowned, looking genuinely confused. "A team is at least two." 

 

"No. An efficient team, especially for such a big operation, is at least five people for a decent hit team. We should get as many at least. At the very least. Have you ever seen a hit team before ?" 

 

"Of course I did, I'm a praetorian." 

 

"Then let me build up the team. You just go wait for me at my home. I'll join you there." sighed the spy strapping up his gears. 

 

Aggripa arched a brow. "You have a house ?" 

 

"Yes, of course, almost every Frumentarius does. This is why we are alone at this moment." 

 

"Yet you sleep here ?" asked Aggripa with a dubious expression. 

 

"It's free, quiet, and above all, no one bothers me because competent Frumentarii never stay here. But you already knew that of course." smirked Gallus as he strutted towards the exit. 

 

A strange man, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiberius is Dhole's character, you can find their writing under this username and on Tumblr as @dholes


	3. 2. The Whelps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing Acantha, Oscen, and Vulpes to the story

Tall buildings loomed above the spy sneaking silently through the ruins of the old world city. Despite being a part of the capital most legionaries didn't roam the empty streets, always threatening to fall on their head or shake a nest of Nightstalkers awake. Only young recruits would brave the ruins on a dare, and return mortified by the tall sights of te dead building. Many said it was because of the dangers of this part of the town but the truth was somewhere else and pleased the spy. The truth was, Caesar's Legion was riddled with as much superstition than it was with lice. Wild talls of monsters, ghosts,unspeakable creatures, etheral beings, and other nameless abominations snaking through the city. Even wrapped in crimson, a tribal stays a tribal. Lucius had even given up sending people there, a red tribal too this one. Well behaved but tribal nonetheless.   
   
 Gallus couldn't feel safer than where others felt in danger, it always gave him a step ahead. Which is why he had set his headquarters in this hole everyone rued. He made his way in complete silence to the old abandoned 'hospital'. It couldn't be called this way anymore of course, with the Enclave's sigil poorly slapped over the red cross. The square building swooped by the Enclave before the bombs fell. Perfect repelent for terrified recruits and underpaid guards. The spy fearlessly circled the building until he found the hidden hatch giving him access to the insides of the old facility. The antique door gave away easily with a faint crank, he needed to take care of this, he had to be the most silent as he coud. He could not afford to be spotted.   
   
He slipped in the small opening into the slim manhole and went down the ladder into his facility. For years now, it has been his' and no one else's.He nearly slipped on the last, damp bar. He huffed his discontent, thinking about the pain he would have felt if he had knocked himself on his way down or bumped your knee against the hard metal.   
   
The spy didn't considered himself to be especially whiny but his nerves have been a wreck for years now. Any stimuli he could get has been enhanced to the limit, to the point where even a bump on his torso would feel like a punch in the ribs. Gallus had learnt how to hide it. Like everything else. Pain was just another information. Just another information. Just another information between all the intel he used to swim in. No big deal.   
   
He walked through the rooms filled with the unspeakable horrors the Enclaved used to meddle with. Shapeless Deathclaws, mutants whose face were frozen in horror, creatures so distorted it was impossible to tell if they were humans or ghouls before they were damped in the yellowish, glowy liquid they died in. Gallus got used to it, some of his people even gave the creatures names and personality even though they were only frozen meat to Gallus' eyes, an extra protection to make sure no one would dare walk in past this room in fear of finishing like those disgusting shapes.   
   
He typed the complicated password on the monitor allowing access in his safe place. The heavy door open with a painful groan and he stepped through the large opening. In front of him the long corridor leading to the elevator, Gallus could see the numbers ticking above the doors. Acantha was on her way. As usual the young woman was aware of his presence. His masterpiece. The elevator casted it's cold lights on him just as he reached the door, Acantha stood there in all her allure. Powerful, strict, ready.   
   
"Sir."   
   
"Acantha." The dark-haired woman always saved her words, no need to tell more than needed, she moved to the side to let him in and the spy went in in silence, waiting for the doors to close. "We have a mission on our hands."   
   
"Details."   
   
"The murders in the town. Some I suspect are ours. But there's the ones we discussed about. We'll have to solve them." explained the spy calmly as the floors defiled.   
   
"Who's in charge ?"   
   
"A praetorian." Acantha's nose scrunged. "But he's clueless, he will do whatever I tell him to. He's just another well trained dog. Misleading him will be easy."   
   
"...If you think so." Acantha disliked Centurions and Praetorians all the same. For different reasons but reasons enough. Now she stood her ground to them and could probably slaughter them if she wished to... and did a couple of times in the past, proving his point further. "Who's on the team ?"   
   
"So far only me and him. You if you wish." Acantha nodded her approbation. She never turned down a mission when Gallus was the one to offer it. "We'll need two others. I planned on taking the whelp, and we need more firepower. Centurion," scrunged nose. "Or Decanus."   
   
"We already have a Praetorian. That's enough firepower."   
   
"Noted. I'll look for another frumentarius. I have a few in mind."   
   
"What about the whelp ?" noted Acantha turning her brown eyes to the spy. "He's in bad shape."    
   
"It will do. If I let him rot in the recruits' barracks I'll risk backlash. It's not a pleasure but I have little choice."   
   
Acantha nodded and the doors opened. "I will get ready, sir." she said before she disappeared. Gallus doubted it would take long and decided to wait for her in front of the elevator. The hospital was mostly empty, whatever life living through its hall creeped in silence. Force of habit. Then Oscen arrived.   
   
"FARTHER !" yapped the little celt slamming her entire body against Gallus' leg. Pain rushed through his body, burning his scorched nerves through all his lower half, almost cutting his breath through the shock. The spy winced, almost losing his legendary composure before he gave a stiff pat on her back.   
   
"Oscen... what a pleasure."   
   
"Farther ! You are back ! Will you give me a mission today ?" chirped the twelve years old excitedly, squeezing his painful leg even tighter.   
   
"No, Oscen. Not today. But maybe next time."   
   
The white-haired girl lost her smile, her grip -tthankfully- loosening on the limb. "But..."   
   
"No hard feelings, kid. I can't invent missions for you." Oscen finally let go of the leg, Gallus ruffled the dirty hair the child seemed reluctant to wash. Acantha finally returned, frowning upon the little girl.   
   
"Oscen. Are you bothering Gallus ?"   
   
"I'm not ! I'm trying to get missions but farther won't give them to me ! I can kill now !" insisted the girl.   
   
"No, Oscen." scolded Gallus. "No killings before sixteen."   
   
Oscen pouted, her little button nose all scrunged up, an habit she probably picked from Acantha, her 'big sister'. "But I can do it. Acantha ! Tell farther, I can kill !"   
   
"No, Oscen. You're too young. Only stealth missions until sixteen." insisted Acantha.   
   
The celt girl looked down, no missions for toy. The young one always tried to prove herself. An attitude Gallus usually appreciated but with this specific child it became difficult to handle. He often surprised the youngest of his trainees taking 'initiatives' and most often not for the best.   
   
Acantha pushed Oscen a little away. "Return to your room, Oscen. We have to work."   
   
"But farther just arrived !"   
   
"Yes, kid. But I have a mission of my own. I promise next time I will have something for you."   
   
Scrounged nose. "You always promise."   
   
"And I often keep them. Now go. You'll be the first to know if I need something stolen from Tiberius." chuckled the spy. No doubt the moment would come soon. The celt looked up at him with teary eyes. "Promise."   
   
"Thank you, farther !" she chirped before running off. Finally leaving him and Acantha alone.   
   
Both of them went back into the elevator, silent as usual. Acantha has put on her Legion attire, fake tattoos on her arms, chest cast in a tight binder, her dark hair neatly brushed back, her frumentarii cowl hanging between her shoulder blades, the fur of the dead coyote in perfect shape. The very image of Legion professionalism.   
   
"Will you pick the whelp yourself ?" she finally asked as they finally emerged outside annd she put her cowl on her head.   
   
"Yes. Meet me in my house. The praetorian is already there."   
   
Once again her nose scrounged up but she didn't comment. Instead vanishing in the ruins. Separate ways, separate paths. Safer that way. Especially for him.   
   
***   
   
The Frumentarius Recruits barracks were different from any other barracks. They had this bastard status where anyone from recruit to Decanus and even sometimes Centurion could end up to be trained as spies and assassins. Yet despite the variety of ranks inhabiting those walls they were run down and half destroyed by years of neglect and disdain. No Frumentarius wanted a trainee, and Gallus was amongst them. Loud, often obnoxious, prideful as toads, easy to kill with their first training inadequate for their new missions. But the whelp wasn't one of those, or so Gallus suspected.   
   
He entered the room his trainee was kept in. Usually the trainees were held in common rooms but not his, being blessed by Caesar himself gave this kind of perks. Being whipped and having your back covered in long scars and open wounds also gave this advantage, but few would gloat about it. At least the whelp didn't. Insead laying all day on his miserable cot, waiting for anything to happen.   
   
And today was the day for him to come out of this dusty place and get something under his teeth.   
   
"Get up, whelp. You're finally getting something to chew on." said the spy in a light voice. Almost cold considering that the young man, barely sixteen, was laying on his cot, chest fully wrapped in bandages to hide te ugly and bloody injuries left by the whip. The young man got u from his cot, his slender silhouette strangely stiff compared to his natural suple attitude, and stared at Gallus blankly. Heavy bags under his steel blue eyes revealing how little he slept at night yet how resilient is spirit was. Gallus had the pleasure to see many broken by the crack of the whip but this man kept his head high despite how young he was and how much pain he felt.   
   
"I'm no whelp. I proved myself already."   
   
"Not to me. Until then, whelp you are.Now come on."   
   
"My name is Vulpes."   
   
"No hard feelings, Vulpes. But if I cared for your name I would call you by it." mocked Gallus, imitating the nosy voice of his trainee. Vulpes sneered but didn't commented, instead picking up his gear and puting it on in front of his reluctant mentor. Gallus noted that even though he kept most of his straps tight the ones susceptible to rub on his wounds were kept loose. So much for appearences.   
   
"What's the mission, sir ?" asked the Frumentarius stiffly. Being whipped sure taught him how to respect his superiors. Even if Gallus wasn't his superior per se, only his mentor.   
   
"Heard of the murders going uptown ?" asked the spy leaving without waiting for his trainee.   
   
"Who hasn't." mumbled Vulpes, hopping behind Gallus while tying his laces.   
   
"That's our mission. Find the responsible and get rid of them."   
   
Vulpes frowned, pausing his little jumps. "How do you know there's only one murderer ? It could be a group or random murders commited by different people."   
   
Gallus chuckled. "Easy, my dear. If they were a group someone would have caught a sight of them. There would be whispers, agitation, people trying to join and other trying to disband them. If they were random murders there would be a bunch of suspects and culprits caught on the act. But we don't," started the spy, gloating shamelessly. "So I think not only there's only one killer but the killer is also highly trained in stealth, deadly, experimented. A warrior. Whether they are part of the Legion or not I can't tell yet. I need to learn more about how the killings are commited."   
   
Vulpes stared, baffled. Mostly at the man's arrogance but he could tell it was slightly justified. Still, the man was as obnoxious as a rutting Nightstalker. Vulpes secretely hoped he would pay for his hubris but didn't commented on it. People like this don't survive for long after all. He followed his 'mentor' reluctantly.    
   
He didn't have much choice after all. He was stuck with this man whether he wanted to or not. Somehow the current Frumentarii leader thought he would be a good choice and Vulpes couldn't help but wonder how much the others must be for him to pick Gallus. 


	4. 3.The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meet Scipio belonging to @radiojamming

"Evening, Scipio."   
   
"Ave,Gallus," greeted Scipio Magnus coldly, pushing his curious son behind his back. "May I ask how you ended up with this lowlife ?" he sneered at Vulpes, crossing his arms the second Scipio junior was hidden behind his back.   
   
"Turns out I'm cursed with training this whelp. Just pretend he doesn't exist."   
   
Vulpes frowned as Scipio let out an amused chuckle and uncrossed his arms. "What are you here for ? I guess you didn't leave your nestin the barracks for no reason."   
   
"Indeed. I have a mission and need to put up a team. I was wondering if you had anything to d-"   
   
"Father ! Who are this people ?"   
   
"Be quiet, junior. Gallus was talking."   
   
The child whined and pulled on his father's toga. "Who is the blue-eyed person ? Why do you not like him ?"   
   
"Enough, junior ! Don't talk to him, you hear me ?"   
   
The child pouted and ran off back into his room. It was rare for a legionary to raise their own spawns, most gave them away to the priestessed at birth to avoid the pain of raising children. Gallus could get behind that. He couldn't picture himself raising a child. Yet Scipio chose to raise his own even if Gallus doubted about his competence about it.   
   
Scipio sighed as he heard the door upstairs slam. "I'm sorry about this bother. What were you saying."   
   
"I was trying to recruit you." resumed Gallus, not very pleased with the interruption.   
   
"Fine," said the man moving towards the inside of his house. "What for ?"   
   
"Heard about the uptown murders ?"   
   
The man twitched. "Of course I have. Everyone did."   
   
"Well, you are bright enough to piece one and one together. See you at my place ?" chuckled Gallus already taking his leave.   
   
Scipio nodded. "Ave, Gallus."   
   
***   
   
Aggripa found himself staring through the window like a longing dog waiting for his master.Gallus had dropped him in this house too big for the praetorian's liking. For him a house was supposed to be a bedroom, a tiny space to cook and eventually, and it still was a luxury, a water room to wash himself. The house he was given as a praetorian was even bigger than this one and he hated it. He could have hosted his entire tribe in it. This was too much, extravagant, a waste.   
   
Aggripa didn't know on which foot to dance with this man, he seemed like he was born with such a vain personality and yet. Everything in this house was a well-oiled machinery. The two slave had their own space, more than many were given amongst his praetorian peers, their roles were well defined and he could see it. One cleaned, one cooked, one harvested the garden, the other tended for it, and both of them were definitely able to defend themselves and this house.   
   
The tribal praetorian could see it clearly.Despite their 'weak' appareances it was clear they knew how to stand a fight. The older one, maybe already past his fifties, walked around the house with long strides and his fine toga cleverly hid the muscles underneath, maybe he worked in one of those mines he heard about, or he was a soldier before, but what was certain is that he was not helpless despite his sagging skin, and greying hair. As for the woman many would have think she was a cheap slave bought half the price due to the large slash across hercheek from the mouth to the corner of her eye. But what Aggripa saw was a fighter like the ones in the arena. Her toga hid more scars no doubt. He was certain she was part of the gladiatores before. He would bet his eyes on it.   
   
But he didn't comment on it. Accepting politely the water the woman offered as they waited for their master to return. Another frumentarius had arrived about an hour ago, sipping fresh water from her seat. Probably one of the very rare 'honorary men' he had heard about. And honorary men qualified her well enough, she had a broad jaw, piercing eyes, thick eyebrows, roughly built features, the face of a predator. And if he didn't know warrior women himself he would have mistook her for a man.   
   
And this woman had a crushing presence, Aggripa knew she could kill with very little thought and even take down men twice her size no doubt.He's certain she would be a strong asset to whatever team Gallus was building without his knowledge.He certainly wasn't complaining, the spy knew more about the people suitable for the task, but he didn't really appreciate being put in the shadows. Especially when he finally saw the Frumentarius return with yet another Frumentarius, barely an adult, probably still a child, and one that reeked pain and blood.   
   
"What's this ? We can't put such a task on an injured child." said Aggripa coldly, getting up from his too small seat.   
   
"No hard feelings but I have very little choice here. This on happens to be my trainee and I have to take him on my missions. Fear not, he's aparently a bright kid. Caesar himself granted him a boon. He won't bother us." explained Galllus with a large grin while the trainee was stabbing him with his glare.Aggripa genuinely wondered how the young man could stop himself from actually planting a knife in the other man's back.He decided not to comment on it any longer.   
   
"You talked about five people. Even with your trainee there's only four people." noted the praetorian, regretting giving so much freedom to the spy.   
   
"Worry not, the last one is on the way, that's why, Vulpes and I took so long, dear.We had to send him a message to get ready."   
   
Aggripa relaxed. "Very well. Who ?"   
   
"Scipio. Another Frumentarius."   
   
Aggripa's face fell again. "Another ? Shouldn't we have more warriors and less spies ?" he groaned, tired of the spy shenanigans. Shame on him for recruiting him.   
   
"Please, I know the man. He's reliable, wary but reliable. And for now we don't need muscles with no brains -no offense-, we need people capable of unveiling someone's identity when they already have a few headstarts already."   
   
Aggripa frowned but didn't comment. The Frumentarius did have a point.   
   
"Now, he should be here within the hour. We'll discuss things once he's here. I suggest we all stay together until we have found our culprit."   
   
"Fine, but why ?" asked the praetorian, the Frumentarius seemed to have things sorted, he'll give him that.   
   
"Why ? Well because our man is likely to hunt us down once they realise were on their heels. If we have to return to our homes everyday we'll be vulnerable. Also it will save us time, and finally all our intel will be contained and less likely to escape from our attention."   
   
The soldier humed, another fair point. They needed an HQ, may as well stay here indeed. Aggripa had nothing waiting for him in this house he now had to call home.


	5. 4. unstoppable force

As time went on Aggripa realised how clueless he was and how competent those Frumentarii Gallus recruited -even the 'trainee'- were competent. He realised that he barely knew how the Legion worked outside of the Praetorian corpse, that he could barely think about how someone could know about the patrol's paths and hours, that he wasn't aware of the organisation of Flagstaff itself.   
   
The spy had put up a map and pins, debating with the so called Scipio Magnus about whether or not the red pins should be used for victims or crime scenes. The quiet one was setting up the living room into a formal HQ, arranging the furniture and bringing the various tools they would use to find 'activity zones' or whatever concept Gallus had explained. the trainee has been covering the windows with fabric and pieces of paper to make sure no one would spy on their work, pacing around the roomto make sure no one could listen in either.   
   
The praetorian had tried to help the quiet one but she hissed him away, of course she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own but it was the only task he could actually help with. He held back his sigh, already exhausted by this entreprise.   
   
"Aggripa ? Would you kindly make yourself useful and go fetch the murder files for us in Tiberius' office ?" ordered the Frumentarius, pausing his bickering with Scipio to turn towards him.   
   
The praetorian got up mechanically, releaved to finally be given an order. "Yes, si-... Gallus. Right away."   
   
The spy chuckled, "Of course, dear. Have a lot of fun."   
   
Scipio rolled his eyes and returned to his pins, sneakily using the yellow pins for the few crime scenes he had heard about while Gallus was looking away. Pins promptly taken down by Gallus the second he spotted them.   
   
Aggripa left the house, he walked through the neatly arranged garden and noticed that most plants gave fruits, nuts, and various other foods. Harvesting his own food in their garden was frowned up as a proof of low income but Aggripa could not help but think it was an excellent initiative and in Gallus' case a certain ingeniosity since it was cleverly organised to make it looks like a regular garden.   
   
Everything about this man was about appearences. A house clean and cleverly organised despite the lack of rich decorations, a useful garden presenting as a purely esthetic place, and all his attitude turning your eyes away from the ugly scar carved on his cheekbone.   
   
He walked through the street, merchants, patrols, resting legionaries occasionally walking with their wives and going through the markets all blissfully ignorant of the danger. The city wasn't safe anymore with a murderer on the loose. Or group of murderers since Aggripa stll doubted that a single person could cause enough ruktus to reach Caesar's ears.   
   
He looked at all this faces, wondering if he would see them laying dead or strung to a cross in the upcoming days. He noticed some worried glances his way and looked back down, realising how outlandish his behaviour could be to this people being stared at in the middle of the street by a severe looking praetorian. His mother used to tell him his eyes sparkled with kindness but his sister said he lacked the smile to go with it. The praetorian never understood why a smile was in any  means necessary to show his mood.    
   
you speak with your eyes   
   
Aggripa sighed, climbing the steps leading to Caesar's palace. Maybe he shouldn't think about his mother so much. He was dead for his tribe. Even if he still called for his old Gods. He couldn't tell if they had abandoned him too but he still found comfort knowing his sacrifice has been protecting his people.   
   
He walked past two veterans watching the door proudly like it was the biggest honour to be granted and knocked on the door.   
   
"Tyrannus ! Dirus ! I told you not to let anyone not important pass through you.    
   
The dark haired guard with greying hair ran to the door. "He's a Praetorian, sir ! I thought he was important enough." explained the man standing au garde à vous behind the closed door.   
   
the door opened violently slamming the man right in his face and made him fall on his ass with a pained yelp, revealing a gigantic man with a scarred face, but nothing impressive enough to destabilise the tribal.   
   
"Who are you ?" barked the man ignoring his men helping each others out after the blow, the dark haired one holding his bloody nose.   
   
Aggripa frowned, he did not appreciate the man. Not at all. "I am Praetorian Aggripa. I have been designated to investigate the mur-"   
   
"HUSH ! Do you want everyone in town to hear you ?! Come in !"   
   
The praetorian squinted his eyes, the Centurion was definitely more likely to make the intel come out with all the noise he was making. He stepped in  the office, neatly arranged but drowning under paperwork. The Centurion started fiddling through the piles, slamming a bunch of them on the desk while grumbling profusely about the praetorian 'taking long enough' and 'stupid bureaucracy'. Aggripa looked around, several, bloody trophees hanging around, proof of the man's prowesses in combat. This type of men should be sent in combat until they ended up a trophee themselves. There is no glory in killings, people keeping trophees wer sick to his eyes.   
   
"There. That's all I got." finally grumbled the man leaving a large pile of files on his desk.   
   
Aggripa looked at the files sternly. "This much ? Why did it take so long to call for help ?"   
   
"Excuse me ?! I've asked for help to days ago ! You should have been there right away ! And look at me in the eyes if you intend to insult me !"   
   
The roar annoyed Aggripa greatly and he didn't look up, instead picking up the files."I didn't insult you, yelling is uncalled for. And I am higher ranking than you are and you owe me respect."   
   
The man scoffed, absolutely outraged at the affront. "I am Tiberius Rex ! Governor of Flagstaff and no one besides Caesar outranks me in MY city !"   
   
Aggripa frowned again, his arms full of files. "Every Praetorian and the Frumentarii leader outrank you. I won't discuss it any further. I have work to do."   
   
The tribal left the place while the man vociferated insults like a rabbid dog but not daring start a fist fight with a man specilised in close combat.   
   
***   
   
The men waited for the praetorian to return around a pitcher of fresh, clean water and nut snacks fresh from Gallus' garden. Vulpes hesitated to get himself some, he didn't want to show how starving he was. Since he was Gallus' pupil he had survived off his meager savings.And now he had nothing left. Gallus hadn't moved a single toe since he was entrusted in his care and that meant no income for him and the very little rations given off to recruits. The crumbles of the more powerful.   
   
He had no idea why but Gallus managed to get plenty of crumbles. And fat ones. That implied the man was actually smart, and he hated it. Gallus was despicable, lazy, a shame to Caesar's armies. Yet he could use his knowledge and smarts to get a mansion, two slaves, visibly enough food to spend some on frivolities as snacks. How dared he ? When many more talented needed those crumbles. Like himself, he was certain he was better than this man bickering aboutthe pins colours until the taciturn Frumentarius decided for them picking greens and blues much to the other two men's despair.   
   
He was smarter and he would show it soon. He had no need to bicker about the pins colours or the emplacement of the map. He was a man of action, not words, he would show them what a Frumentarius truly meant and rise higher than any of these men before. When Aggripa shoed up he was the first to swiftly get out of his chair to pick up the files and proudly take them to the table.   
   
"Let's share the load, shall we ? We can all be in charge of a sector of the town and-"   
   
"Wait a second, dear. I don't believe your the one in charge here. First you say 'please, sir, may I unload you of your burden ?' to our preatorian friend. Secondly you're the lowest ranking of this group and you will behave as such, so sit down and let us explain how a Frumentarius proceeds." interrupted Gallus with a wag of his finger. "First we'll remove the useless informations, then we'llstart looking for the main zone of activity of our culprit."   
   
Scipio nodded in silence, a faint smile on his lips. Cocky bastard. Acantha was the one to share the load in silence and started browsing the files, putting some on the left and others on the right in complete silence, imitated by Gallus and Scipio while Aggripa and Vulpes stared in confusion.   
   
"Uh...I apologise but I am no Frumentarius," finally dared Aggripa. "I do not know what exactly we are looking for."   
   
Scipio sighed deeply while Gallus chuckled before the dark haired man spoke up. "You need to read your files and isolate the ones with the same modus operandi, then we'll compare to see if our man acts alone or in a group -even though I agree with Gallus about the fact it is probably a lone individual- and decide which cases are pertinent to our investigation."   
   
"I'm...not very familiar with Latin yet." mumbled the praetorian unknowing of the word 'modus operandi'.   
   
Scipio hissed under his breath, they were lead by a tribal who didn't even spoke Latin, amazing. "Listen, look for the cases who look like each others, make a pile and don't call us if you need help, clear ?"   
   
"Clear." answered Aggripa, not even slightly offended by the sharp tone. Instead he started reading the cases files obediently. Scipio raised an eyebrow at this demeanor, almost any praetorian would have thrown a baby tantrum at the snap but this one behaved like he was inferior to them and it greatly confused the frumentarius.   
   
Vulpes, Acantha, and Gallus on the other side didn't seem to mind, or maybe they were fully aware ofthe man's attitude. Maybe that was the reason they operated in such a way, assembling only frumentarii for the team so they would not be stolen the spot. Scipio could respect that. And Gallus had always been the type to lead people by the tip of their nose... or on a leash more exactly. Something Scipio could still respect given the man. He was smart enough to see through this game ofdisappearances and successes to know that the man had found his pllace in the shadows, festering there like those monsters in tribal stories.   
   
But Gallus was not a story or a tale. He was a real person intelligent, cunning, and slippery enough to keep his secrets. Even Scipio had to admit he didn't know what the man was up to. He was either satisfied with his condition or had set his eyes on something much bigger, prowling around until he could pounce and get it once and for all. And shall this day come there was very little chance for Gallus to miss. He never did when he wanted to. And unless the man pinning notes to his case files fell to hubris he would rise out of the chaos he generated to swoop in his price.   
   
"Scipio, dear. Could you stop staring ? I know I have a pretty mug but I'm not available right now, we have work on our hands."   
   
...Nevermind.


End file.
